


Horse Sense

by aphelion_orion



Category: Guilty Gear
Genre: Gen, war-era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-04
Updated: 2010-09-04
Packaged: 2017-10-11 11:24:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/111901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphelion_orion/pseuds/aphelion_orion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sol and horses don't really get along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Horse Sense

**Author's Note:**

> "No fair, kid, inviting me out to a dinner-date and then ditching me for a couple of ponies." [[very mild slashy subtext, if you squint]]

**Title:** Horse Sense  
**Fandom:** Guilty Gear  
**Characters:** Sol, Ky  
**Rating:** G  
**Warnings:** none

  


**Horse Sense**

The party was the sort of event only a stuck-up, self-important fop would enjoy, because it was a congregation of stuck-up, self-important fops. Red carpet, crystal chandeliers, ballroom dancing, the whole nine yards. A buffet that would have bought half the regiment new weapons and armor, the high society parading up and down its length like peacocks just to be noticed by everyone in the room, selecting a morsel here and there like an unnecessary alibi. Half the food would be thrown away by tomorrow. It was kind of remarkable how many people were dying, had died to make this possible, and yet all the rich and powerful could see wrong with the world was the fact that there was no tuna tartare to go with their caviar.

The kid was standing with the latest group that had wanted to talk to him, which meant they were extolling their own virtues and he was listening, fingering the stem of his untouched glass, a perfectly bland smile on his face, the very picture of polite civility. In reality, Sol knew, he was calculating the next move, trying to catalogue the losses, paying just enough attention to know when to carefully hint that some division or another would appreciate support.

Sol had never been able to make small talk to try and sell his ideas. Even before he had gotten involved in the biggest scientific fuck-up in the history of the planet, he hadn't been willing or able to put up with these inanities, the fake smiles, the prancing, the meaningless drivel; either people were interested in a project and willing to invest, or they weren't. His person and the project were two completely different things, but in this war, that was no longer an option. It would have been a beautiful thing if imminent eradication would have brought humanity together, but if anything, it seemed to splinter them even further, driving the rich into their bastions of relative safety where they continued to play the same old games.

It needed someone like Ky to draw them out of their hiding places, and however much the kid might hate it, he was growing to be the life of this entire enterprise.

For the umpteenth time that evening, voices rose clamoring for a toast, and while they were all busy picking up new drinks, Ky quietly bowed out, placing his glass on a tray and vanishing behind the thick curtains concealing the exits.

Sol waited for a moment to see if anyone would notice his departure, but no one did—glasses were being raised, self-adulating praises sung, not a single person realizing that the one whom they were claiming to throw the entire party for had just gone missing. And after the fifth reiteration of the glorious forces of good and righteousness, and their glorious, righteous triumph, Sol saw no reason to put up with the entire sickening spiel anymore.

The kid had had the right idea. Grabbing a fistful of pastries under the offended stare of a waitress, he made his way to the door.

\---

The glow from the brightly lit mansion swiftly became lost among the turns and pathways of the sprawling gardens, but the kid stood out in his white uniform, weaving in and out between flowerbeds and hedges. Sol had expected him to head back in the direction of the camp to continue slaving away at his desk, but instead, he turned north, leaving the complex behind and walking up the hill towards a paddock.

In the faint light of the moon, he could easily make out the silhouettes of more than three dozen horses of varying shapes and sizes, some trotting closer to inspect their late-night visitor. The kid had approached the fence and was stretching out both arms, allowing the horses to scent him.

Briefly, Sol considered retracing his steps. Animals and he didn't get along. Even the warhorses back at camp became apprehensive when he got too close to them; they kept calm, but he still smelled entirely too much of murderous fanged monstrosity for them to do more than endure his presence, ears flattened and nostrils quivering, visibly elated when he chose to move on.

Sure enough, the entire herd startled awake as he approached, neighing and rearing.

"Whoa, whoa, hey!" Ky exclaimed, jumping out of the way when a pair of hooves collided with the fence, the horses nearly smashing his shins in their haste to get away. "What's wrong with all of you?"

"No fair, kid, inviting me out on a dinner-date and then ditching me halfway through for a couple of ponies."

Ky turned, his startled expression melting into something more neutral. "Oh, sorry. I figured you'd get bored soon and wander off, anyway."

"Pot, meet kettle. There's only so many variations on stupidity I'm willing to put up with," Sol muttered, stepping closer to join him at the fence.

Ky's face darkened, and he turned his gaze back to the paddock. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was bothering him—the same thing that was bothering Sol, except he had stopped caring too much about it. The propaganda talk, the over-the-top celebration, every single one of those airheads already writing their speeches, turning a battle of the margins into a triumphant victory in a long series of triumphant victories.

"If you give them a bit more time, I'm sure they'll convince themselves you stopped the assault with divine inspiration and seven trumpets."

The kid barked out a laugh, the closest to bitterness Sol had ever seen him come. After a while, Ky sighed, nodding towards the paddock. "At least we got something useful out of it."

It took a moment for the words to sink in, for the realization to dawn that the kid had somehow managed to talk the richest snob in town out of his entire stock of stud horses and secure them for the army.

"...Did you scare charity out of him or something?"

Ky smiled slightly, but his eyes remained cool. "He seemed so eager to announce his willingness to help, I thought I'd take him at his word."

For the first time, Sol regretted not paying close enough attention to the fops to see the guy squirming at being made to donate his valuable horses under the eyes of several dozen witnesses. For someone who refused to take advantage of the genuine generosity of the common people, the kid sure knew no scruples when it came to the rich, trapping them with the rules of noblesse oblige.

"You know, underneath that boyscout exterior, you're really kind of evil."

Ky shrugged, observing the animals huddling in the center of the paddock, who were watching them warily and obviously trying to decide how something could smell like death on legs and look human at the same time. "I was hoping to take a look at them tonight, but I guess they aren't used to having company this late."

He rummaged around in his coat pockets for a moment, before coming up with a handful of dried apple slices. "Let's see if this'll convince them."

With that, he climbed over the fence, heading towards the nervous herd. Sol took a few steps back, watching the horses relax considerably, until the most courageous one broke away from the herd, coming forward to take the proffered treat from Ky's hand.

Ky smiled, placing another slice of apple in his palm and backing up, forcing the gray horse to follow, stretching its neck in hopes of reaching the prize without moving too much. In this manner, they eventually ended up at the fence, the animal munching on the apples and allowing itself to be petted. It was still eyeing Sol warily, but had apparently concluded that if the treat-giving human was still alive to feed it, it could endure the presence of death for the time being.

"You really are a boyscout. What else have you got in there, a sewing kit and sweets for crying orphans?" Sol asked, noticing that Ky was barely paying his jabs any mind. He was engrossed in dealing with the horse, scritching its forehead and murmuring nonsense, an oddly gentle smile curling the corners of his mouth. It erased the years and distance the perfect commander persona gave him, leaving Sol looking at a fourteen-year-old kid happy to be petting a horse. It was disconcerting, and a little unfair, that he could smile like that.

Then, the youthful joy vanished from his face, professionalism taking over again as he grabbed the bridle, bending down and gently rapping his knuckles against the animal's shin, causing it to lift and hold its leg for him to inspect. He ran a careful hand along the joints, feeling the muscles and examining the hoof.

"They've got good legs. If it's true what he was boasting about, they should be fast, too, and well trained. The only thing they're missing is battle experience. What do you think?"

"Huh. I don't know all that much about horses," Sol admitted. Apart from their basic biology, there had never really been a need for him to learn—horses were hardly a common lab specimen. If worse came to worst, he could ride one, if it was a trained warhorse and not like those skittish beasts, quivering at the mere thought of being forced to stay close to him.

"That's a surprise. You usually seem to know something about everything." Ky let go of the horse's leg, looking up. "...What are you doing all the way over there?"

"Horses and I... don't really get along."

"The camp horses seem to get along with you just fine."

"They tolerate me, there's a difference." Sol shrugged. "I don't see how it matters, anyway. I prefer my methods of transportation not to have a mind of their own."

"Well, then, we'll have to make these tolerate you, too. There'll be plenty of scarier things out there than you, we can't have them frightened of our own for no reason."

Sol had to clamp down on the urge to grin, the words so laden with unintentional irony that it was hard to keep control of his face. Still, he stepped closer, watching the horse go rigid under Ky's hands. If the kid wanted to see a repeat performance that badly, there was no reason why he shouldn't play along.

The horse stomped its hooves, its eyes widening with fear, and when Sol leaned over the fence with his hand outstretched, it reared back with a noise like a scream.

"Whoa, easy there! Easy." Finally, Ky managed to grab a hold of the bridle again, forcing it to stand. "He's really not as scary as he looks, I promise." He turned to Sol, still holding tightly onto the straps. "Let's try."

"This is ridiculous."

"It's not ridiculous. We can't have them scared just because they don't like the smell."

"What?"

Ky gave him a long look. "They can probably still smell dead things on us."

The kid's face was so neutral, so nonchalant, that it was hard to tell whether he was lying or earnestly convinced that the horses were scared of both of them. That had become bothersome recently; it was getting harder and harder to read Ky, when Sol had been so sure that he couldn't see the important things for his love of rules and regulations.

"Okay?" Ky chanced loosening his grip on the bridle just a little, reaching into his coat pocket again to pull out more apple pieces, and before Sol could protest, he began rubbing the dried fruit all over his palm, past his wrist, and up to his shoulder.

"What the—"

"Those are like candy for horses."

"...you're turning me into a candy cane for equines?"

"It'll help to mask any other scents," Ky said, thoroughly unperturbed. "Here." He placed the pieces in Sol's hand. "Let's try again."

"My dignity, I'd like it back," Sol grumbled, but did as told. Since he'd already ended up smelling like a damn fruit, he might as well do something with it.

The horse seemed consternated at this bizarre turn of events. It turned mournful eyes at Ky, as if beseeching him to end this cruel and unjustified punishment, and, when that only earned it a nudge towards the hand of evil, started nosing around his coat in search of the hidden snacks.

"Oh no," Ky chuckled, urging its head in the other direction. "That's not how we play around here. You know where they are."

When it noticed that no amount of soft-eyed gazing would melt Ky's heart, it reluctantly turned towards Sol again, stretching its neck as far as it could go, and, after what seemed like an eternity, snatched a slice so quickly that Sol could feel its teeth skimming his palm. When nothing followed, the horse tried again, taking the second slice more slowly, still ready to flee at the slightest movement. After a few repeats, though, it seemed to conclude that while Sol clearly was part dangerous monster, he was also part delicious things, happily shoving its muzzle into his hand to see if it would produce more apples.

"What the— knock it off," Sol growled, pushing at the searching muzzle. "I don't have any more, stupid."

"Here." Before he could refuse, Ky refilled his hand, and the horse gave a pleased snort, having completely forgotten what it had been so afraid of mere minutes ago.

The rest of the herd had been watching the proceedings from a distance, alert and unmoving. However, when it became apparent that their foolhardy companion was not being horribly mauled, but was, in fact, well on its way to mauling the horrible monster, some began to flock closer. Ky swiftly climbed to the other side of the fence as four more horses got daring enough to come looking for treats, trying to nudge the first one away from Sol's newly empty hand.

"Okay," he begrudgingly admitted. "I think you've proven that it's possible to drug horses with apples, is that—ow!"

He jerked forward sharply, pulled by the taut rein of his own ponytail, and barely managed to catch himself on the fence. The piebald on the other end did not seem to see anything wrong with annoying one of the most dangerous creatures on the planet, tugging inquisitively and giving him a doe-eyed look.

"What the fuck— stop that!"

The horse chewed at its mouthful of hair, and refused to budge. "Stupid, let go."

There was a muffled noise next to him, and he risked a glance to the side to see Ky, one hand clapped over his mouth in a vain attempt at stifling his giggles.

"Oh, very funny."

Ky nodded, his eyes shining with mirth.

"Well, it's not that funny from my—ow."

The stupid animal was close to ripping his hair out, staring plaintively when its new toy didn't seem to cooperate, and Ky's amusement won over his politeness as he broke into full-blown laughter.

"If you don't tell the stupid thing to let go, I swear I'll scar it for life," Sol threatened, trying to gain some leverage that wouldn't involve losing most of his scalp.

"S-sorry, sorry," Ky said, getting a hold of himself and wiping at his eyes. "Just give me a moment."

Scaling the fence again, he tapped the muzzle lightly. "C'mon, girl, let go."

The horse stared.

"You know what that means. C'mon." He tapped again, and this time, the horse obeyed, opening its mouth. Sol pulled away perhaps a bit more quickly than strictly necessary, glaring at the crestfallen horse. The kid was distributing the last fistful of apple slices among the animals, before vaulting over the fence again.

Turning around, Sol wordlessly started the trek back down the hill, and after a moment, footsteps were hastening to catch up with him. They walked in silence, the kid tactfully refraining from commenting on what had just taken place. If it had been anyone else, Sol was sure he would never hear the end of it, especially considering all the times he had mocked Ky mercilessly. As it was, though, the kid was too stiff to even consider it. Not that he wanted to be reminded of this, it certainly wasn't the high point of his career, but...

"So," Ky said softly, his eyes entirely too bright. "...What was that about you and horses?"

  
\- Fin -

\----

**A/N:** And thus begins the endeavour to leave Sol with as little dignity as possible. XD C&amp;C is appreciated.

1\. No horses were traumatized in the making of this fic.  
2\. Yes, Ky lied.


End file.
